Clandestine
by Sintendo
Summary: With nothing to lose and even less to gain, A double agent works his way into the Social Welfare Agency to resume unfinished business. Though his motive is unclear, his actions may change the way everyone in the SWA behaves.


With a mixture of curiosity, annoyance, and boredom, Chief Lorenzo studied the smiling man who sat across from him. The man, who appeared friendly, was actually his host for the afternoon, having invited Lorenzo to this restaurant in the outskirts of Rome. While some distance from the Social Welfare Agency headquarters, it wasn't too much out of the way. Besides, Lorenzo had nothing to fear with his most trusted agent at his side.

"What did you say this man wanted, Jean?" Lorenzo asked in his native tongue.

"I have no idea," Jean responded, "He simply stated that he knew who we were and that he wanted to talk to us."

Lorenzo became a bit more nervous, a bit less bored, "Oh?"

The man across from Lorenzo sipped his wine cup (having preferred it over a long stemmed glass), coughing a bit after recoiling from the strong alcohol content, and smiled.

"Oh, don't mind me," He spoke in English, "I'm used to not understanding what people are saying, I work with assholes all the time. I always assume they're making fun of my mother," He took another sip of wine, "Makes 'em easier to kill."

Jean's raised his eyebrows behind thick sunglasses. The little blonde girl that sat next to him shuffled in her seat. She didn't seem to be enjoying her slice of cake anymore.

"Oh, don't you worry about me too much none," The smiling man said, "I don't hurt children unless they're been naughty."

Lorenzo cleared his throat, "So, Mr..., I'm sorry I don't recall you giving me your name."

"I never did," The man responded, understanding Lorenzo through his thick accent, "You have to give me something first."

"What is it that you require?"

"What I _want_ is for you to allow me to finish up what uh…," He reached into his pant pocket, prompting Jean and his charge to adjust their positions. It didn't bother the man and he retrieved several sheets of folded paper and read from them.

"What I want is to continue…'Agent Lauro'… odd name for him to pick… Anyways, I want to continue Agent Lauro's investigation."

Jean grew pale, gulping as the man mentioned the name of a dead man, "W-what do you mean?"

The man laughed once more, "Look, stop with this act. I know that with a snap of the fingers that cute little girl next to you can kill me, probably instantly if it were needed. Only reason you ain't killin' me now is that there happens to be several high profile news reporters sitting two tables down. Coincidence, maybe?" He laughed again, "You can kill me anytime. I'm not superhuman. If a bomb was to explode right now, my arms and legs would be blown to bits, same as yours," He sipped more wine and then said, "To cut it short, Lauro was… a double agent, you could say."

The Italian men were speechless.

"He used to work with us but he's been dead for years now, and we want to resume our investigation. However, we don't want to deal with all the hustle 'n bustle of trying to sneak into your organization again – we have all the info about you guys that we need, so you aren't that big of a threat – so we're going to be honest with you guys."

"And what exactly do you mean by 'we'?" Lorenzo asked, "Do you work for the American government?"

"Obviously," The man laughed, "What that man you called 'Lauro' was working on was retrieving data from several drug smuggling groups located in the Mediterranean. I'm sure you guys have heard of them. 'Padania'?"

"They're terrorists, not drug traffickers!" Jean growled.

"Terrorists need money," The man shrugged, "And, believe it or not, American kids are more than willing and able to cough up the cash for the best drugs this side of Colombia."

"I've never heard of this problem," Lorenzo said. After some thought he continued, "So what will we receive in exchange?"

"Resources," the man said, "We'll help you out any way we can in your fight against Padania."

"…And you say you know of us?"

The man cleared his throat. "Rico, Jean, Lorenzo," He read from his papers, pointing at each person respectively, "Jean's little brother is named Guiseppe and his kid's name is… Henrietta. Jean and Guiseppe are both former Carabinieri who retired after a terrorist bombing that killed their family. Uh, Lauro said something about a sister-"

"Enough!" Jean interrupted.

The man, feeling that the fates have dealt him a winning hand, retrieved a cigarette from a rather elaborate platinum cigarette case and lit it, "You may refuse, of course. But that'll only leave you more curious about me and the data I have about you guys. And the data I can provide about your enemies."

"How can we trust you if you already snuck behind our backs?" Jean said.

"Trust is a strong word," the man blew a puff of smoke into the air above him, "Personally, I don't trust no one. But, I can _guarantee_ you something."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to be the most _interesting_ person you'll ever meet," The man grinned, "Bradley Nowell, at your service!"

* * *

**Clandestine**

**A Gunslinger Girl fanfiction by:**

**Sintendo**


End file.
